I Will Always Return
by pinkmink
Summary: In grief they fell the only way they ever could - with each other. Slightly alternative ending to season three, omitting *spoiler*. An Ichabbie love story
_I hear the wind call your name
_ _It calls me back home again  
_ _It sparks up the fire - a flame that still burns  
_ _Oh it's to you, I will always return_

 _I still feel your breath on my skin_  
 _I hear your voice deep within_  
 _The sound of my lover - a feeling so strong_  
 _It's to you I'll always belong_

 _Brian Adams "I will always return"_

She'd been unconsciously stirring for a while, but what really woke her up was feel of his stomach hair tickling the lower part of her back. He was spooned around her, both lying on their sides and facing away from the dawn. There was a small gap that separated them - as she took a deep breath she understood why. He was a gangly furnace.

She didn't want to move, for fear of waking him and breaking apart this perfect moment. His breath was in her hair, hot, smooth and even - clearly still asleep. One arm was dangled around her belly, his fingers tucked a little underneath her side. They were stacked together like nesting bowls. With every rise of his chest she felt the hair tickle again, then away. Somewhere in the night she had wrapped her arms protectively around his arm, and in the light of day they seemed so small next to his own.

It was then that she remembered they were naked. And like in the garden Eden the realization brought shame as the events of the night before starting unfolding a piece at a time - Joe's death - Pandora's sacrifice - her father's involvement - Danny's betrayal - the fall of the Hidden One - culminating on the expression on Jenny's face as she stared at the body in the archives, wrapped in a sheet.

Abbie's stomach lurched as the thoughts flooded back to her and she couldn't help that her body folded in on itself once again. Too much God damned loss. In the quiet of the morning she could focus on her own grief, letting it wash over her in waves, the horrifying realizations of the day before playing over and over like a bad movie. She was conscious of the fact that this was an incredibly normal pattern following a terrible event - enough of her academy training had taught her that. What she wasn't conscious of was Crane waking and closing the gap between them, completely engulfing her like slow molasses until he was fully entangled with her intimately.

"Shhhh." He soothed as she realized she was sobbing out loud. His arms wrapped around her stomach and chest, pulling her small body tight against his own. "I'm here."

Part of her wanted to run at the sound of his voice. It was as if before he spoke he was just the idea of himself - a comforting thought warming her bed. If he was awake that meant that everything last night would need to be talked about and dealt with; the pros and cons, how they should move forward now that they've crossed the ultimate line. Would this change anything? What if they were incompatible? How would they keep fighting together if something went wrong and they couldn't stand each other? And how could she find enjoyment taking comfort in a man's arms when her sister had just lost so much?

Her body trembled against his in pure, unfiltered grief. She struggled to say something - anything - to make him leave her. To let her be alone in her sorrow as she was accustomed. To not see her at this exposed and vulnerable moment. But she couldn't find the words - her tongue felt dry and lifeless. As ineffectual now as she had been to save the only man she had considered brother. Her tears finally slowed as she calmed, steadying her breathing. She found herself wanting nothing more to sleep again and wake in that happy state of not remembering just how terrible everything was.

He had been uncharacteristically silent while she cried - his only show of comfort to clutch her tighter as if he knew instinctively she wanted to run. He spoke finally, words that she needed to hear.

"You have suffered much Lieutenant." He started, his voice raspy and unused into her ear. "But understand this - what is between us, at our very core, is a profound respect. I have no expectations of you other than that. The rest of it can be dealt with in time."

She let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding, and nodded her head. There would be time later, when things had calmed, to discuss what they had done and what it meant. For now she could bask in the warm comfort of his embrace. Moving against him, he loosened his grip, allowing her to turn to finally face him. His hair was a ragged mess, but his eyes in the intimate morning were the color of a tropical sea, and shining. She stared into them then, feeling at once comforted by his gaze and completely bare. This naked cocoon was nothing like the exhausting passion of the night before, as she thought back to how they arrived in his bed.

* * *

 _The night before_

"She's finally asleep." Abbie sighed as she reached the bottom step. Her small hands curled around the banister and she re balanced herself - the weight of the day really sinking in. Her body had been on autopilot since they had quickly and cleanly finished with the Hidden One using Pandora's soul as fodder. Really in that large victory her only concern had been for Jenny's well being. Now that she had calmed her to sleep in Abbie's own bed, sheer exhaustion hit her like a ton of bricks.

"I've made myself comfortable on the couch." Answered Crane, as he came into the room with two steaming cups. "You shall have my bed for the night."

"No Crane, that's fine. I'm used to the couch." She mumbled, taking the warm concoction and bringing it to rest on her chest. The heat settled and spread between her breasts and the steam wet the bottom of her nose. She didn't even know what he had made for her, but that hardly mattered as it was everything he made was delicious, and she put the drink to her lips.

"Hot toddy." He informed her, as the hot tea flowed down her throat and the whiskey burned back up. "And nonsense - I'll never sleep if I think that you're down here uncomfortable. I insist."

"I'm a big girl - I can handle the couch." Her tone was resolute. She took another swig, setting the mug down and practically falling onto the sofa. It was damn comfy...

"Lieutenant, you've had a horrific day-"

"So have you." She grumbled, rubbing the spot between her eyes with a grimace. "The day sucked for us both, but now it's done. So you should sleep in your own bed."

"I cannot allow-"

"You will allow me, Crane, to do whatever I goddamn please!" The sound of her own voice startled her, but Danny's betrayal had stirred something within her. His silent control of her for a yet un-named big brother entity, confessed by Sophie, had hardly made a dent in her terrible day until this moment. No man, not from this century or the last will tell her how to live her life.

She had expected him to react in shock and apologize - but instead he came back at her in equal force. "There is nothing gained from being stubborn, Abigail!" He had set his mug down and his hands flew up - the pressures of the day culminating in a small explosion.

She stood and turned to him, fuming irrationally. "Don't you Abigail me! This is my house and I'll sleep where I want!"

He crossed the room in a few steps, and came down to her level, eyes stern. His breath was hot and he huffed out his cheeks as they bore into one another. "Let. Me. Take. Care. Of you. FOR ONCE!"

She would never be sure who made the first move but it seemed to happen at once - they came together in a clash of hands and lips. He picked her up easily as she wrapped her hands around his neck. They kissed with abandon, fisting the others hair, clothing, skin, tight and unyielding. He lowered her to the ground and leaned down, taking her rear possessively in his hands, lips never leaving her own. She ground against him, and they shared a breathless moan. Nothing entered Abbie's head but the pure exhilaration of touching him and how it numbed every other damn thing she was feeling right then.

"Take me to bed." She bit breathlessly, breaking away from him with a gasp. His eyes were wild and his lips swollen, but his expression was determined. "Life is short - and I need you Ichabod."

He submitted to her will without question, grabbing her hand and full on running to his bedroom. When they reached the last step they made a mad dash, quiet as mice, to his bedroom and closed the door. He scooped her up and practically tossed her onto the bed, landing with a bounce. She struggled with her boots, still covered in dirt from the day's events. Every piece of clothing was coming off too slow and she grunted in frustration.

He watched her as he undressed in a flash. No thoughts entered either mind except pure carnal desire and a need to feel alive. Finally wresting free of her pants and underwear she threw both across the room, now naked in the bright moonlight. He hardly stepped out of his breeches before he was on top of her, kissing his way across her face and neck as he pushed her down.

She moaned softly against him, each touch like an electric shock. His fingers gripped her tightly as they kissed, and she ran her nails up his back and harshly into his hair. His hands were everywhere at once, and then suddenly lower. He moaned at the discovery of how ready she was for him and she arched her back as he found her core. There was no tease in his touch as he unrelentingly stroked her.

"I want you to come, Abbie." He whispered lowly in her ear, filthy and commanding. "Come for me and then I will fill you."

She would have thought it impossible for her to be more turned on by him until he spoke those words. Everything of the day just fell to the background as he played her to quiet oblivion. She came hard and quick with a silent shriek, clinging to him like an anchor while her body trembled. She could feel his heart race as her nose dug into his jugular, smelling of sweat and heat and earth. He moved his hand away to rest on her stomach gently - perhaps the first gentle touch of their encounter. But Abbie didn't want gentle.

"I need you. Now." She moved and pushed him sharply to his back. Moving to straddle she reached between her legs and grasped him, hard against her thigh.

"Abbie!" He hissed, gripping the tops of her legs, throwing his head back. "Please!"

She raised herself up and then back down, enveloping all of him inside of her. It was then that the first logical thought in forty five minutes hit her - this felt amazing. He inside of her felt like the puzzle piece she never knew was missing. He released a low moan as she began to move against him.

His face was slack and his eyes closed in an expression of pure pleasure. Their movements had been so fast before but she couldn't help herself - she slowed to a crawl, using her muscles to pull him as she raised off, only to slam down again. Each action elicited another sound or gasp from his mouth, and he was completely and utterly at her mercy. When he opened his eyes and whispered her name, so bare and full of meaning, she couldn't help leaning forward and kissing his sweet lips.

He stilled her movements and shifted, allowing himself to thrust into her with increased speed. She cried out softly as his motions hit her again and again in a place that spread warmth across her belly, and they came together, aching, silent and beautiful.

With a shattered breath she rose with him still buried within her, hands splayed on his chest and their hearts thundering in tandem. He looked up at her in wonder, quietly finding her hands to lace their fingers together. What had they done? Her world came crashing down as she realized how caught up in the moment they had been. After losing so much today, did she just cross a line she couldn't take back?

His expression turned to ragged determination in the moonlight, as if he could sense her thoughts. "You are my everything." He confessed in a whisper, clear and honest. "Stay with me tonight."

Her heart lurched as his confession, and she slipped off to allow him to engulf her in his embrace. She fell asleep with his lips at her ear, kissing it softly and whispering of his admiration sleepily.

* * *

 _The morning after - continued_

She could scarcely believe that the events of the day before had led them to this moment. Reaching up then she curled his hair behind his ear, as he smiled at her like everything wasn't falling apart around them.

"How do we get out of this bed?" She asked, a hitch to her voice. Her entire body felt harshly exposed with the undercurrent of raw emotion. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out of his nose slowly.

"I'm not entirely sure." Came his answer, sadness hardly masked in his words. He opened his eyes again, kind and sympathetic. "But I know that we will. Because we still live, and there is still work to be done."

She nodded in bleary acceptance. They simply would soldier on. There were arrangements to be made, and her sister to comfort, hopefully still sleeping in the room next to them where she left her. Eventually she would have to deal with Danny and how they left things. Her brain began to pile tasks again and she felt herself start to panic. It was an unusual emotion for her- Abigail Mills does not panic. She's always in control. But lying in his embrace, she could be the truest version of herself. And the truth was despite their victory the loss was wearing down her toughest armor.

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead then, pulling her into his chest. She felt solid there, not liquid in the pool of emotions she had been swimming in. The gruff of his untrimmed beard scratched softly across her forehead, and his heartbeat sang against her cheek.

"We'll get through this together, Abbie. As we always have." She could hear the words in his throat as they were formed, filled with love and acceptance.

"I should get to Jenny." She took a deep breath, not wanting to leave this safe space where it was only the two of them and nothing else. Where she could pretend, however brief, that the world outside didn't have any need for them.

"Of course." He squeezed her one last time before moving away. It was only then she felt the chill of the morning, as they had only been covered by a thin sheet. He really was a personal heater. She felt the loss on more than a physical level as he sat up, running his fingers through his hair and raising his arms above his head in a stretch.

"I'll give you your privacy." He murmured, patting her leg as he stood from the bed. She sat up, watching him unabashedly and forgot how sad she was for a blissful moment. In the heat of the night before she hadn't taken a moment to fully look him over - long pale legs had a shapely ending, the muscles of his back stretching as he pulled his breaches up. Dark hair dusted his chest. He was a beautiful man, to be sure, but the package seemed unimportant compared to the soul of the man before her - in every way imperfect and every way her equal.

"Don't go." Her voice was smaller than she intended, and it made him turn sharply again to her, his hands dropping the shirt he was posed to put on. He sat again next to her and reached out his hand to grasp hers.

"What do you need from me?" He asked, his expression wanting.

It was a loaded question in her state of undress, but his mind wasn't anywhere near a gutter. That was actually incredibly refreshing. "I just mean - you don't need to give me my privacy." She dropped the sheet she had been holding to her chest, her breasts exposed in the morning sun. His eyes never left hers.

"Abbie, I will endeavor to follow your lead in matters of the heart." He smiled at her, thumb running along her palm. "But if you're going to continuously expose yourself to me I won't always be strong enough to avert my eyes."

A joke was exactly what she needed and she let out a snort, undignified, as her mouth curled into a grin. He looked so damn proud that he could make her smile.

"I'll try to contain myself." She replied, feeling for the first time that day a bit more like herself.

"I'll certainly wouldn't want you go out of your way on my account." He pushed a curl behind her ear, rubbing the earlobe gently before pulling away.

She leaned forward and kissed him then, his lips warm. It was chaste, but loving and over too quickly. She pulled away but just slightly, their mouths an inch apart, breathing each other for a moment. Confessions and declarations could wait until a lighter time, but she had to tell him how much the last night mean to her, how much he had saved her in breaking apart with her.

"Your lips are my salvation." She whispered, and meant every word. His eyes glazed with emotion as he touched her face.

"As yours are mine." He replied. In that quiet moment they found the path they had always been meant to be on, and they left the bed to face the day the only way they ever could - together.

* * *

 _ **A/N** \- Lengthy notes about this fic and how it relates to the finale- __please don't read if you haven't watched the last episode_ _._

 _In truth I wrote this before the finale, and with full intentions to finish it at some point with actual facts from the last episode but thinking - surely they will survive this and be very emotional about Joe's death. Clearly, nobody wants any facts from that last episode - it was terrible. So I took some artistic liberty with the details, and I hope you, dear reader, didn't mind. If it helps, writing this after the finale only made me cry more about it._

 _This could be my favorite thing I've written about Ichabod and Abbie, but particularly Abbie. Her character always spoke to me because she was so unapologetically herself - strong, brave but soft in the ways she should be to be a well rounded character. Her relationship with Crane, beyond any romantic shipping notions broke the mold of gender and racial stereotypes and it was refreshing - the mutual respect and admiration between the two of them is unlike any other show I've ever seen. More than Mulder and Scully, more than Booth and Bones - they were unfailingly faithful to the other person. Watching them quietly fall for each other was a joy._

 _The complete crash of their own mythology, not to mention the completely out of character dialogue of the last episode was an absolute tragedy to watch - never has such incredible potential been so squandered. And don't even get me started on the blatant racism against Abbie and really Nicole, but I digress as I could rant all day about what Fox has ruined._

 _This is how I choose to remember them, and I hope that you will find your own satisfying ending to their story, whether it be in canon with a potential fourth season or within a fic that speaks to you. For now I'm leaving them here in this world and moving on for my own sanity. Thanks for reading :)_


End file.
